Rock, Paper, Scissors
by Woodland Goddess
Summary: Choices – they can lead to anything, but nothing a game can't fix.


Title: Rock, Paper, Scissors!

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: K

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: I own nothing publically recognisable. All publically recognisable settings and characters belong to J K Rowling and her various publishers; I make no profit from this.

Summary: Choices – they can lead to anything, but nothing a game can't fix.

Harry paced back and forth in the waiting room, outside the Delivery Room, where his wife, Ginny, was currently giving birth to their first child. Harry was not the only man pacing; all the Weasley men were doing the same. It was a "man" thing, or so Molly had said some few hours earlier that day. Harry had, had to start thinking of her as Molly, as, with the number of Mrs Weasleys there now were, it would just be downright confusing for all involved. The women were sitting together, drinking tea, and babbling excitedly.

Harry wrung his left hand in his right. Merlin, he was so nervous. What if the child hated him? What if he was a terrible father? What if he could not cope with this? What if...? As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Bill slapped him roughly on the back of his head, knocking his glasses askew. Harry glanced over the rims of his glasses at his eldest Brother-in-Law, gratitude shining in his emerald-green eyes, before fixing the position of his glasses. Merlin knew how many "what if" thoughts Harry had gone through in the past nine months.

Harry moved over to stand by the Delivery Room door, standing up on his tiptoes, trying to see in through the window...But he could not see anything. Harry went back down onto the flats of his feet, the strain on his legs having been too great. He returned to his pacing, running a hand back through his messy hair as he let out a long sigh. He hoped everything was going alright in there; as Ginny was THE Harry Potter's wife, St Mungo's had promised the finest Healers to care for her. Harry was most certainly grateful for that, because he was rubbish at this medical stuff.

It seemed an eternity had passed by the time the doors swung open and an older Healer stepped out of the Delivery Room, wearing one of those rehearsed smiles but Harry did not care; that smile meant everything was okay. "Mr Potter," the Healer said, "you can go in, now. Your wife and son are waiting for you." Harry had never moved so fast in his life – not even when running from Voldemort and his Death Eaters back in the day. Harry burst through the doors, into the Delivery Room, to see his wife laid up in bed, resting weakly against the mound of pillows propping her up, her sweat-soaked hair clinging to her head.

Ginny gave him a tired smile, her warm brown eyes filled with love, before she tilted her head downwards, towards the bundle cradled in her arms. Harry's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the little hand wrapped around Ginny's finger. He could hardly believe his eyes. That was his child right there. His baby. In a daze, Harry crossed the room, sitting on the edge of Ginny's bed. "May I...?" Harry breathed, gazing down at his first child with something akin to childish wonder.

Ginny shifted her arms slightly, a clear invitation. "Mind his head," she whispered as Harry reached for their son with tentative hands. Ginny helped ease the newborn into Harry's arms, cradling the head in the crook of his arm. Harry stared down at the bundle nestled in his arms. When Harry looked down at the face of his son, he felt as if the world around him had suddenly disappeared. All he could see were the soft brown eyes gazing up at him and the little swirls of black hair on the baby's head.

All he could hear were the sounds of the baby's gentle breathing. All he could feel was the heat of the child's skin as he wrapped his tiny hand around Harry's. All he could smell was the scent of Ready Break Instant Porridge wafting up from the boy's soft slightly wrinkled skin. Harry swallowed thickly as he gazed down at his son. He could hardly believe he had been involved in the creation of something...of someone so beautiful. In this moment, Harry knew that, for the first time in his life, he was truly in love.

He would shift the moon and stars for this chid if his son asked. He would destroy the very earth, itself, to protect him. Harry shifted slightly, bringing his arms and head closer to each other, and proceeded to snuggle his face against his son's. "You are so beautiful," Harry whispered against his son's forehead, closing his eyes in pure bliss. The child made a soft noise and his tiny hand moved a little on Harry's finger, tightening ever so slightly.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his shoulder lightly. Harry lifted his head to see Arthur smiling down at him. "He likes you, son. He can tell you're his daddy." Harry looked back down at his newborn son, and gave a smile more content than anyone had ever witnessed. Perhaps he would be a good father, after all, and perhaps his son would not hate him. "What are you going to name him?" Arthur asked softly as the other Weasleys began crowding into the room behind him; all of them wanting to see Ginny and their son.

"James Sirius Potter," Harry answered immediately, while Ginny simultaneously answer with, "Arthur Frederick Potter." Harry and Ginny turned to stare at each other, before Harry frowned and raised a fist. "Best two out of three?"

Ginny sighed. "Yeah, alright." Ginny raised her own fist. Harry counted them into their first game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.


End file.
